


Whatever it takes

by TheCivilizedJedi



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Armor Kink, Begging, Biting, Breathplay elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Consensual Underage Sex, Crying, Daddy Issues, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Face Slapping, Foot Fetish, Hair-pulling, Hero Worship, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Infinity War ignored, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Mild humiliation kink, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Age Play, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Possessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Protective Peter Parker, Puppy Love, Restraints, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Sensory Overload, Slow Burn, Spanking, Sub Peter Parker, Temptation, Unhealthy Obsession, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voice Kink, Wall Sex, authority kink, consensual rough treatment, emotional issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCivilizedJedi/pseuds/TheCivilizedJedi
Summary: Wait, hold on a second... How do stories usually go?Ah, yes!Once upon a time...there lived a good little spider.And what do good little spiders do?That's right, they spin webs to catch Tony Stark.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 41
Kudos: 152





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!  
> This work contains brief and non-graphic mentions of self-loathing and possible self-harm, rape-y behavior (not between the main characters), murder, violence, physical abuse and, most importantly, (consensual) UNDERAGE SEX.  
> In other words, nothing about this work is healthy or morally acceptable.  
> READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
> 
> Concerning the AU part:  
> 1.All events of Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame are ignored.  
> 2.Past Tony Stark/Steve Rogers and past Tony Stark/Pepper Potts relationships are heavily implied (nothing graphic).  
> 3.Peter has an extra feature thanks to the spider bite (which is a spoiler, so I can’t disclose it. All I can say to reassure you is that it’s not 8 legs, at least, so that’s good, right?)
> 
> !This is a work of fiction. Do not use any of the further described behavioral patterns in real life!

Two people in the whole world know Peter Parker’s secret.

Tony Stark knows his secret. Tony Stark seems to know all about him. Evidently, he had his people dig up everything there is to know about the boy who is way out of his depth playing a hero. He knows Peter is Spider-Man. It is a huge and dangerous secret, to be sure. And Tony Stark would never admit it, but he is kind of _proud_ he is the one to keep it for Peter. But what he doesn’t know is that Peter Parker has another dangerous secret, and _that_ secret is bigger than life.

Aunt May knows Peter’s secret. She isn’t proud of it. She isn’t happy about it. And she isn’t even remotely okay with it. Not by a long shot. She could accept the fact that her nephew is a mutant swinging from skyscrapers on his webbing at night. She could even accept him risking his life for total strangers on a daily basis. She could accept all of it, but she doesn’t. Because she doesn’t know. What she knows is that her fifteen-year-old nephew is in love with Iron Man. And there is nothing she can do about it.

Two people in the whole world know Peter Parker’s secret. It just isn’t the same secret.


	2. Team Stark

When Tony first met Peter Parker, he was smitten by the sheer adoration in the kid’s eyes. He hadn’t felt anything so pure, and innocent, and, frankly, _delicious_ in years. That’s why he hated to take it away from the boy. Oh yeah, he was damn sure the Germany thing would break that little angel forever, so it came as a complete shock to him when, afterwards, he was met by even more intense worship in Peter’s eyes.

What is the kid, _blind_? How can he possibly _not_ see what Tony Stark really is? How he breaks everything he touches. How he doesn’t care enough for anything or anyone but himself. At least, that’s what everyone else sees. Why can’t this boy do the same?

Tony clearly needs to be grateful for this small blessing and stay the hell away from Peter Parker – to protect him from ever finding out the ugly truth. Because Tony isn’t sure he can survive one more person being disappointed in him and leaving him behind, even though he knows he deserves it.

Still, being the fucking coward that he is, he doesn’t have the heart to let Peter down personally. Not after his sparkling excitement at the prospect of working with the Avengers or his endless gratitude for letting him keep the suit. Not when the boy hugs him so eagerly after just a moment of surprised hesitation, clutching at his expensive suit so desperately as if it were his lifeline. Tony just can’t bring himself to look him in the eyes and tell him he can’t be _Team Stark_ anymore. No, Tony just can’t make himself do it. Thank God, he is rich and in a habit of paying other people to do all kinds of things he doesn’t feel like doing himself. So he decides to handle it like an adult – he leaves Happy to do the damage control for him. Yeah. Really mature. But that is all he can do, so…

****

All Peter can do, is hope to God that back then, in the car, he didn’t look as desperate as he really was, nearly breaking Mr. Stark’s ribs during their _not_ -hug.

Peter wonders if Mr. Stark could feel his heart throbbing in his ribcage like crazy at the close proximity, if he could hear him take a rattling breath, if he could see his pupils blow impossibly wide…

That moment was so, so _perfect,_ Peter can’t even...

Surely, it was awkward. But not as awkward as when Peter came into his small apartment just to find Tony Stark on the couch, flirting casually with his Aunt! He would have totally had a heart attack right there and then if it hadn’t been for his Spider-superpower. Dying in Tony Stark’s arms – what else could he possibly ask for?

He didn’t make a _total_ fool of himself only because he was pretty convinced the whole conversation with Iron Man was just one of _those_ dreams he had: he and Tony Stark alone in his room, the door lock clicking shut – it was just too good to be true, you know?

*****

Peter sighs and falls onto his bed, facing the ceiling.

It has been two months since he last saw Mr. Stark in his fancy car. In _that_ car. It has been two months, and _not a word_ from him.

What is he expecting, really? That Tony Stark will drop his – whatever it is he does – and come spend some time with a stupid, horny teenager? Now _that_ sounds ridiculous even in Peter’s own head!

He growls and hides his face in his palms.

Peter hates himself for being so weak and pathetic that he can’t stop obsessing over something he knows he can _never ever_ have.

_He just grabbed the door for me. He just grabbed the door. He just–_

There is really nothing more to read into it. But even two months after, Peter is still feeling a bit lightheaded just recalling that moment in the car. And recalling it is all he seems to be doing these days.

It is not his fault, okay? It’s just…the memory of Mr. Stark’s strong body so close to his own is constantly making Peter hot and bothered. It was just so, so…

“Good…” Peter exhales desperately, letting his head fall back onto his pillow. He grabs his sheets, curling his fists into them, and takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on his memories. 

His nostrils flare, helping him remember that heady smell of Mr. Stark’s aftershave.

Peter was acutely – _painfully_ – aware of how close Mr. Stark’s neck was to his lips. The urge to lean in and press his mouth to the tender skin was overwhelming, almost _unbearable_ …

Peter keeps recreating his perfect illusion again and again. All he really needs is just the mental image of Mr. Stark exhaling into his neck out of surprise when Peter hugged him – just the memory of his hot breath on his neck is all it takes Peter to shudder and come into his pants.

“Shit,” he moans, mortified.

He is so screwed.


	3. Conflicted desires

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

He tries. He really does. It takes all of his self-control _not_ to check those messages Peter Parker has been leaving him every day for the last two months.

God, that kid is persistent!

So, apparently, Tony’s self-control isn’t good enough because, eventually, he checks them anyway.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

If he is so much of an asshole to have got the kid’s hopes up and such a coward that he left him hanging, instead of just telling him the truth, he probably deserves all that guilt he is feeling, listening to Peter’s hopeful voice.

So Tony listens, again and again, torturing himself to anxiety and then drinking himself to sleep.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

How can he possibly give the kid a new mission? He won’t _dare_ risk his life ever again.

Blinded by Steve’s betrayal, he wasn’t thinking clearly when he brought the boy into this whole mess. Peter is too young for this shit and, frankly, too good for this world in general and for Tony Stark in particular.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

Over and over again.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

Until your ears bleed.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

Listen to what you’ve done, Tony.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

At some point, Tony’s determination falters, and he finds himself bringing up the matter of adding Spider-Man to the team directly with the team itself. To what is left of them, anyway.

“It went well,” he thinks afterwards, pressing a packet of ice to his bleeding nose, “all things considered.”

It really wasn’t that bad. After he disclosed Spider-Man’s age and his involvement in the German business, Pepper only shouted at him for about an hour and Natasha just punched him in the face. Rhodey was simply silently judging him.

“Could have been worse,” Tony admits to himself. “They could have actually agreed.”

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

Tony Stark has never had a problem admitting to the whole world that he is an asshole.

That’s what he did when he and Pepper decided to take a break. 

That’s what he did when Steve left him.

That’s what he did when he didn’t need to try and be a better person for anyone anymore. It even felt good for some time. In fact, it makes his life a hell of a lot easier when people stop expecting good things from him, Tony Stark (not Iron Man, of course). That way he can never let anyone down. No need to live up to someone’s expectations anymore. He is finally free to be a spoiled rich dick again. Or so he has thought, up until now, because here it goes again.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

How is this kid even real?

How can he be so innocent, so full of hope, even after what he had to see in Germany?

How could he follow him so blindly into the battle which wasn’t even his – which was nothing but an ugly manifestation of adult life?

How can he worship him so vigorously _still_ – even after he saw what Tony Stark’s most cherished relationships turned into in the end?

How could he lean into his arms so eagerly, hug him so desperately, as if he hadn’t seen almost everyone else, everyone Tony used to love and trust, walk away from him in disappointment?

No, he isn’t real. And even if he was, Tony Stark deserves none of that misplaced adoration that only makes him feel inadequate. Makes him want to be a better person again. Makes him want to prove everyone wrong. Everyone but Peter Parker. That is…frustrating.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

Tony feels like he is being torn apart by his conflicted desires. He wants to keep Peter safe, shield him from the reality that will inevitably destroy his innocence. He knows it is a _nice_ thing to do.

But Tony has never been one for shields – that is Steve’s department. What _Tony_ can do is break the kid, shatter his illusions, show him there is nothing good or noble about Tony Stark – teach him that hard lesson before someone else does it for him. He knows it is the _right_ thing to do.

He wants to do _both_.

A bad guy trying and failing to be good – how very cliché of him. Pathetic, truly.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

Stupid kid! Why did he have to come and offer Tony the one thing he has always wanted, the one thing he can never have because he doesn’t feel like he deserves it in the first place? _Unconditional love_. Wow, even more of a cliché – the phrase even sounds like it has a ™ sign. Stupid. _Stupid_.

And yet, Tony Stark feels like he is worth none of even that. Not even a bit. If he was, he would have adopted a puppy or something.

_“Hey! It’s Peter. Parker.”_

Tony knows he doesn’t deserve the kid. Not his unreserved admiration. Not his open excitement. Not his childish hero worship. _None of that._

But he wants it. He _wants_ it, even though, however sweet, it still makes him feel bitter – unworthy, selfish, and greedy. But he wants it – the joy and the suffering, _all of it_ – wants it still. He just wants someone to actually _give a damn_ about him. Even if that someone is in denial about what Tony Stark really is.

_“So please, call me back._ _It’s Peter. Parker.”_


	4. Prove yourself to him

Peter must have left Mr. Stark like a  _ thousand _ messages by now.

He feels so stupid, so pushy to impose himself on the man like that.

What was he thinking?

Mr. Stark probably doesn’t even check them anyway though.

Clearly, Mr. Stark doesn’t want him…around. He doesn’t need him. Why would he? He has the Avengers, and the S.H.I.E.L.D., and the money… He doesn’t need some teenager from Queens pretending to be a superhero.

Or, _maybe_ , he didn’t like his performance in Germany? Maybe that’s _it!_ Maybe he should have _really_ hurt Steve Rogers for betraying Mr. Stark because oh, he _wanted_ _to_.

Peter just couldn’t believe Mr. Stark was so delusional that he didn’t see his former lover for what he really was – his downfall. He still doesn’t. Not even after what happened between the two of them. Not even after Steve Rogers ran away with his old lover, that pretty Winter Soldier. Not even after he broke Mr. Stark’s suit, ribs, and, most importantly,  _ heart _ .

So Peter only desires one thing – for Mr. Stark to finally see that he doesn’t need Captain America, or the Avengers, or anyone else when he has Peter Parker. He could do so much better than any one of them. He would be such a good little soldier waiting for Mr. Stark’s command. He would obey so eagerly. He would be such a  _ good boy _ . He would never betray him. He wouldn’t be one to leave Tony Stark like those jerks he used to call his friends did – he would be the one who sees and appreciates everything he does. He would do anything –  _ anything  _ – for Mr. Stark if only he just asked. But he hasn’t. It’s been months, and he still hasn’t. And that is slowly driving Peter crazy.

So he will call and text him again and again. And he will coax and beg because who needs dignity anyway? Self-respect is overrated.

Or, maybe, he should just prove himself to Mr. Stark first? Go out there and do something brave and awesome?  _ That _ should draw his attention.

So he goes out there, and does something reckless and dangerous, and nearly gets himself killed. And that  _ does  _ draw Mr. Stark’s attention all right.

****

When he is in the water, the only thing he can think about is how  _ awfully poetic _ it is: how he is dying the way he has been living – drowning agonizingly slowly, struggling dramatically, weak and helpless despite his superpower, so  _ desperate to be saved _ .

So the irony isn’t lost on him when he is brought back to life by the very person he is willing to live and die for (yes, he  _ is _ dramatic like that, okay?).

But it doesn’t occur to Peter until much later. Because for now, all he can think about when he opens his eyes is how  _ Iron Man _ is holding him in his arms, his mask so close to his face, but his voice a distant rumble behind the thunder of his own wildly beating heart.

_ “–okay? Are you okay, kid?” _

He is  _ not _ okay. Not even close. In fact, he is so embarrassed he can hardly hold back his tears of shame.

_ "What were you thinking?” _

He feels like a little boy scolded for being naughty. Not only has he screwed up the fight with that vulture guy, he has also managed to make Mr. Stark mad by almost drowning himself to death. Like, how stupid is that?

But at the same time, something warm starts to swell in Peter’s chest at the thought of Mr. Stark caring enough to drop the… _ super-important-thing _ and come running to save his sorry ass.

_ “I’m not … here.” _

Oh.

_ Oh! _

_ Of course _ he isn’t.

Peter is not  _ that _ important to him after all. Mr. Stark probably has lots of other gifted young people he is helping, right? What made him think he was so special? Poor, stupid Peter.

He feels miserable – he wishes he could just disappear so that he would never have to hear the disappointment in Mr. Stark’s voice ever again.

_ “Why?! Because I SAID SO!” _

Peter also wants to punch himself in the face for trying to argue with Mr. Stark when he tells him to drop this whole thing. He should know better than to question his commander’s decisions. That’s not what good little soldiers do. Now Mr. Stark thinks he is just an insolent teenager. Just fucking great!

_ “Stay close to the ground. Build up your game, helping the little people, like that lady that bought you the churro.” _

He _did_ listen after all! All those messages he thought he’d left Mr. Stark in vain… But he _actually_ _listened_ to them! He even remembered such a little thing as the churro.

He’s also, apparently, built a tracker into his suit to keep an eye on him. And instead of being creeped out by the fact he is being watched, Peter feels  _ excited _ that Mr. Stark considers him interesting enough to keep tabs on.

He really doesn’t mean to talk back to Mr. Stark because he absolutely doesn’t mind helping ordinary people, but he is ready for  _ more _ than that now!

_ “No, you’re not.” _

And, evidently, he isn’t. Because he has the indecency of bringing up the goddamn  _ Captain America _ of all things.

He regrets it afterwards, of course, but in that moment, he is really  _ that  _ desperate to show Mr. Stark how valuable he is – to tell the man how he is prepared to do  _ whatever it takes _ to prove himself to him. But Mr. Stark isn’t interested in listening.

_ “End call.” _

So Peter is going to have to  _ demonstrate _ instead – he will bring Mr. Stark that vulture guy no matter what.


	5. Nothing without the suit

Tony Stark is having a hard time playing a responsible adult, his main coping mechanism being what looks to the outside world like a pretty bad case of alcoholism.

Tony downs a glass of vodka.

This Spider kid is gonna be the death of him…

Did he really have to go ahead and try to get himself killed over some stupid stuff? Was it really  _ that _ necessary?  _ Gosh! _

Tony is frustrated to no end, adding one more reason to his self-loathing list. It is all _his_ _fault_ , after all.

He closes his eyes. The images of Peter dying in his arms flood his mind again: it wasn’t grotesque or dramatic like they show it in movies. It was just _awful_. And scary. And he wasn’t even really _there_. But it _felt_ _real_ – so real Tony almost had a heart attack at that moment. He had a sense of horrific déjà vu – of that time at the airport when he felt the ground drop from under him at the sight of Peter’s unmoving body lying on the tarmac. For a second there, he thought the boy was dead. He panicked. He didn’t even hope for a response when he asked, “Hey, kid, you alright?”

His voice was still trembling when, afterwards, he shouted his hard-edged  _ “You are done!”  _ at the kid, trying to disguise his fear with anger. He’d lost so much already – he couldn’t lose that stupid boy too!

He should have never encouraged him to be brave. He should have never made him that suit. Tony  _ hates _ everything about that suit.

*****

Peter _loves_ everything about that suit. But not for being a technical marvel that it is – he appreciates that too, of course – but mostly he loves the fact that _Mr. Stark_ made it. Made it _just_ _for him_. For him alone. To make him better. Stronger. And...to protect him. 

And he didn’t even know! Stupid, stupid Peter. He didn’t even know before that night he almost drowned. The suit was designed to protect him all along, which means Mr. Stark cares enough about him. Mr. Stark  _ cares! _ And that is all Peter needs to know. Because nothing else matters. Not anymore. And that can only mean one thing – Peter still needs to prove to Mr. Stark he is worthy of the suit. Worthy of  _ him _ . Just like that day at the airport, he still  _ only has one job  _ – to impress Mr. Stark.

And so he goes ahead and screws up all over again.  _ Impressively _ .

*****

On the rooftop, Peter keeps mentally kicking himself for so recklessly endangering dozens of people on that ferry until Mr. Stark shows up to tear what is left of his dignity to pieces once and for all.

Peter fights the tears in his voice, but it is still embarrassingly trembling when he asks, “Is everyone okay?”

And then he lashes out at Mr. Stark for his  _ “No thanks to you” _ response, even though he knows that the accusation is completely fair and well deserved. But he is angry about being treated like a child, and also (not childishly at all) about being left alone but, most of all, about the fact that he was given hope only for it to be taken away just a few moments after.

It hurts!

It _ hurts! _

And Peter just can’t keep this boiling frustration inside any longer. His eyes are already full of unshed tears, and all he wants to do is curl up in a ball and be held while he cries for hours and hours.

But there is no one to hold him, so instead he (predictable much?) decides that offense is the best defense. And he doesn’t give a damn if he sounds desperate as he exclaims, his voice breaking, “If you even cared, you’d actually be here!”

And it is painfully obvious (at least to him) that he is not talking about the ferry situation anymore. It isn’t about that. It was  _ never _ about that. But Mr. Stark just doesn’t get it, so…

So Peter is completely taken aback when Mr. Stark steps out of his suit to confront his bullshit.

“I  _ did _ listen, kid,” he states as Peter watches him, his mouth agape and his eyes wide with awe.

Mr. Stark’s voice is calm as he speaks, but there is something about him in that moment that makes Peter’s Spider-sense blare with warning. It is screaming at Peter to turn back and  _ run _ , but he only manages a few steps back, looking at Mr. Stark like a deer caught in the headlights.

He is so scared right now he almost doesn’t register the gravity of Mr. Stark’s words when he confesses, “D’you know I was _the_ _only_ _one_ who believed in you? Everyone else said I was _crazy_ to recruit a fourteen-year-old _kid_.”

“I’m  _ fifteen _ ,” Peter says, his voice small but still a bit defiant. And it is the only response he can come up with as his mind has just flipped the  _ safe mode _ switch and got stuck on the already familiar issue of age, deliberately avoiding the rest of the painful truth. And, evidently, it is the last straw which finally makes Mr. Stark lose his temper.

If he were being completely honest with himself, Peter would admit that Mr. Stark being angry and dangerous is unexpectedly sexy.

The space between them nearly sparkles,  _ electrified _ with Mr. Stark’s rage, and Peter almost physically feels the wave of strikingly raw power emanate from the man and hit him in the chest. Tony Stark doesn’t need his suit to give out that imposing vibe: his very presence is powerful and commanding. And Peter is scared –  _ terrified _ – and yet… Yet, somehow, he is already envisioning himself lifting the red warning tape screaming DANGER and walking straight up to Tony Stark.

This close, their size difference is outright  _ sinful _ , making their power imbalance all the more painfully obvious –  _ tangible  _ even: the way Peter has to crane back his neck to look up at Mr. Stark, the way Mr. Stark’s shoulders are almost twice as wide as Peter’s own, the way the man’s body is tense with barely restrained desire to– 

_ To grab me _ , Peter almost gasps with sudden realization and feels his cheeks burn painfully hot, making his eyes wet with shameful tears while his mind keeps showing him one dirty scene after another.

He wishes Mr. Stark just slapped him across the face for being such a naughty little shit. He wishes he shoved him against the wall and made him _ show some respect _ .

That’s why when the man almost shouts at him, his voice bitter with regret and disappointment, all Peter can think about is,

_ Fuck, I’m getting a boner from just how Tony Stark is telling me off! _

Peter feels a thrill run through his veins as he realizes that he doesn’t simply want to obey (that thought itself is nothing new) – no, he needs Mr. Stark to be rough with him, to show him his place _,_ to actually _make_ him obey _._

“Please,” he finds himself almost begging, desperately wanting that feeling of safety that comes with giving up control to the right person – to a dangerous person who Peter trusts not to hurt him. It is strange. It doesn’t make any sense, but… But Peter is scared, embarrassed, and yet undeniably aroused all at the same time!

He averts his gaze, breathless, too ashamed to even look at Mr. Stark after that realization.

“Yes, sir. I– I’m sorry–” he stutters, that  _ sir _ slipping off his tongue before he can stop it. The simple word goes through his body like an electric charge, doing the damage that is beyond repair now.  _ Damn _ .

Peter feels so desperate he thinks he might cry. His voice cracks as he whispers, “I just wanted to be like  _ you! _ ”

That confession seems to take all of Peter’s emotional strength because he doesn’t even try to put up a fight over his suit. He _does_ beg for it, of course, but the truth is, when he says he is nothing without the suit, he doesn’t exactly mean _the_ _suit_. 

He really does feel like nothing anyway, suit or no suit. Come to think of it, he doesn’t deserve it in the first place. He did not appreciate the impossible chance his fate had given him – to meet Mr. Stark, to help him fight his enemies, to learn from him. It was more than he could ever hope for, yet it still wasn’t enough.

And now it is all over.

And he is nothing without Tony Stark.


	6. Some kind of lesson

Peter feels like he is drowning all over again. 

He hardly registers his surroundings on his way home. He is even a bit grateful for the fact that all of his emotions have been spent on the rooftop conversation, otherwise he would be having a panic attack right now. 

But no, he just feels numb and devastated. And he must look really horrible because Aunt May even stops rambling on and on about how she was worried sick when Peter wasn’t answering his phone. And when she demands to know what is going on, Peter can barely answer, close to tears and his voice cracking and breathy, “I lost the Stark Internship.”

While explaining that to her, he is, in truth, struggling to wrap his own mind around it.

“I just thought that I could work really hard, and he could– He would– you know, but–” he can’t hold back his tears any longer. “I screwed it up.”

And it is literally the summary of it. So when Aunt May does her best to reassure him and then tells him to take a shower because he smells like garbage, the only thing he can say is, “I know.”

Because that is exactly how he feels.

*****

Back in his lab at the Avengers base, Tony finally has a chance to analyze what happened between him and Peter earlier. 

It is the second time the kid has made him play a responsible adult, and Tony hated all about it. He didn’t sign up for that shit. It is probably the one thing Tony Stark is  _ not _ good at, and it annoys him to no end.

He was supposed to keep an eye on the boy but he failed, too busy sorting out his own conflicted desires to either let him in or let him go.

And so there he was, cleaning the kid’s mess and scolding him for bad behavior.

God, that was  _ weird! _ And it didn’t go smoothly either. Instead of just taking the suit as he should have done in the first place, he found himself smashing the kid’s self-esteem with his sarcasm.

He knew Peter hated being treated like a child, and yet he  _ acted _ like one! So, naturally, Tony felt like some kind of lesson was long overdue there.

Tony also knew it was a low blow, but he just couldn’t help himself because he was actually trying to hide how hurt he really was by Peter going behind his back with that vulture business. The familiar sense of betrayal clouded his judgement, and that Cap parallel was completely uncalled-for, thanks.

Peter was crushed and upset as it was, so all Tony accomplished by his reproof, was the kid lashing out at him with his own accusations. And Tony did realize it was just a protective response, much like his own, but he still couldn’t help being hurt when Peter called him out on his disappearing act. How ironic was that – the kid thought he had abandoned him when all that time (despite his better judgement) he had been right there, all but holding his hand! It really struck a nerve, and it must have been all over Tony’s face because when he stepped out of his suit, the kid looked scared as fuck.

Well, that’s better,  _ you little shit. _

Tony found it extremely hard to play cool while observing Peter’s reaction: his amazed look, his suddenly hunched posture meant to make him appear smaller, and, of course, his puppy eyes. Tony hated to admit it but he liked that response.  _ A lot _ . It helped him take back control, made him feel powerful again – not that lost and confused Tony he had been lately. And no, he didn’t want to think about how that situation wasn’t healthy at all.

He just kept talking, telling the kid he _really_ wanted to bring him on the team but just couldn’t. For some reason, it was important for him to let Peter know that he had fought for him. At least, that’s what he meant to say. But it came out all wrong. And Tony wondered what was worse: the fact that he had just told the kid no one wanted him or the fact that _he_ _did_.

He also brought up the issue of age. He frankly couldn’t tell why it bugged him so much. Or maybe he could, and it bugged him even more…

Anyway, looking back, it definitely wasn’t the best idea to let Peter provoke him like that and then talk to him when angry. Nothing good came out of it, because he treated Peter like a stubborn teenager – which, in fact, he is supposed to be doing – and yet, he couldn’t help but wonder why it felt so wrong then if it was, indeed, the right thing to do.

He lost his temper again, unable to deal with his own guilt and the knowledge that he could have lost Peter today. Yet again.

He just needs the kid to understand that he shouldn’t scare Tony Stark like that. He just needs him to be  _ safe _ , goddammit! Is it really that much to ask for?

His outburst was embarrassing, and utterly useless, and he didn’t really mean half the things he said in the heat of the moment, but one thing Tony said was surprisingly sincere:  _ he doesn’t need all that on his conscience _ – he fears it is going to be the proverbial last straw that can break him for good this time.

In fact, it is the main reason he took the suit away from Peter – it felt like an easy way out. Tony hopes that maybe, just maybe, Peter will stop. But of course, it won’t be the case because Peter _isn’t_ _nothing_ without his suit – he is a pain in Tony’s ass.


	7. Obsession

Iron Man, Peter Parker’s childhood hobby, turned into a full-on obsession when Peter became a teenager. It was so...  _ significant _ that even Aunt May with her over-supportive attitude considered it a bit odd.  _ A lot _ odd, actually. And the fact that Peter switched from Iron Man action figures over to Tony Stark’s real person didn’t make it any easier on their little family.

Becoming Spider-Man has changed nothing for Peter either. If anything, it has gotten even more difficult for him to concentrate on anything else now that he has a way to be more like his idol.

The only problem though is that now it isn’t as much about wanting to be  _ like _ Mr. Stark as wanting to be  _ with _ Mr. Stark – under him, wrapped around him, fucked and owned by him completely.

Yes, that is  _ definitely _ a problem.

*****

In hindsight, May Parker should have seen it coming  _ way _ before it hit her. Should have done something when little Peter preferred his Iron Man action figures and mechanics to playing with real kids. Should have said something when teenage Peter started having those wet dreams. Should have known that it wasn’t just some sort of bullshit phase all teens go through, growing up. If she had known, she would have slammed the door right in Tony Stark’s goddamn face the minute he appeared on her doorstep. If she had known… But she hadn’t.

So here she is now, sitting on her ragged couch, struggling not to cry, and listening to Peter’s trembling voice begging her not to try and stop him.

“Please, please… I love him! I’m  _ nothing _ without him. But I was stupid. I had a chance and I threw it away because I was scared that I might fail. And I lost Mr. Stark. But now I want him back, so I need to show him what I can do for him. Aunt May, please, I’m begging you, don’t interfere, just let me  _ show _ him…”

She would never try to stop him. Stop her teenage nephew from throwing himself at his mentor? No, she knows better. She knows Peter could do something,  _ something stupid _ , if she did.

He doesn’t say it outright, not yet anyway, but she just  _ knows _ . May isn’t so ignorant as to miss the signs of obsessive behavior, but all she tries to do about it eventually turns out to be a catastrophe. Like that one time when she tried to talk Peter into going on a picnic instead of visiting one of Tony Stark’s charity events – first he threw a tantrum and then…then he had his first panic attack.

So no, Peter has never been exactly emotionally stable, but lately… Lately he has been wound up and ticking like a time bomb, yet another Tony Stark produced and can easily set off at any moment.

May wants to throw up.

Perhaps, it is time to consider prostitution to be able to afford a good therapist for Peter after all.

*****

Peter regrets it the minute he told her. He shouldn’t have. He knows he freaks out when she freaks out. He knows, and he has still told her. Is he really so pathetic that he can’t keep his own dirty thoughts to himself?

Peter groans and covers his face with his hands, trying to get the image of his shocked and pained aunt out of his mind, even if for a split second.

He shouldn’t have told her, even though she pressed. But he is weak, he just can’t deal with all the secrets at once. He has too much on his plate with all the Spider-Man stuff and his outright bullshit high-school crush on that Liz girl he knows is way out of his league. Or she would be if he were interested in girls at all, that is. He only invented that story to avoid awkward conversations with his friends and stop them from constantly asking him why his eyes were red and puffy every day. That is because he cries himself to sleep every night over Tony Stark, but he can’t exactly tell them that, can he? And Peter figured, a high school crush could explain it, so…

Who could have known that fake crush shit would blow up in his face? He only asked her to the homecoming because he was sure she would say no. So much for his convincing story of a rejected boy! Who’s gonna believe him after he ditched the hottest girl in school to run after her villain father just to bring his trophy to Mr. Stark like a good little spider he is?

But the worst thing is that, in the end, it didn’t even matter one bit because when Mr. Stark was finally –  _ finally _ – so proud of him that he offered him a place among the Avengers, all Peter could think of was how he wanted to drop to his knees and choke himself on Mr. Stark’s dick.

Leave it to Peter Parker to take the one thing that is good and pure in his life and turn it into some slimy, twisted trash.

_ No, Peter, _ he chided himself then.  _ Can’t you see Mr. Stark’s affection is fatherly and not at all what you want it to be? Do you really think you can work with him every day without screwing it up, without showing him your appalling desire? _

No.

No, he didn’t dare ruin that too. He couldn’t look Mr. Stark in the eyes when he was refusing his offer. It  _ was _ a test, and he failed.

And just as he thought that his life couldn’t possibly suck more, he came home and turned the TV on just in time to see a huge engagement ring on Pepper Potts’s finger.

*****

He  _ had to _ tell his aunt just because there was no other way. He had to because there is no amount of lies in this world that could convince Aunt May that her nephew lying passed out on the kitchen floor after several hours of hysterical crying is just a “school thing”. So he has told her the truth. Just this one truth. The ugly one. And he regrets it like hell because now she is the one hysterical and she cries like…a lot.

“Peter, you  _ can’t _ do that!” she sobs, trying to catch Peter’s gaze, but he avoids looking at her. “You are a  _ child _ and he…he is old enough to be your  _ father! _ This is insane!”

But Peter is just shaking his head frantically, indicating that he is not ready to listen to reason.

“Wait, was it  _ his _ idea?” May gasps at what has just occurred to her all of a sudden.

“Did he do something, Peter? Tell me what he did!” she yells hysterically, catching Peter’s face in her hands and making him look her in the eyes.

“Tell me! Tell me!” she keeps repeating, as if she can’t hear Peter reply bitterly as he tries to push her hands away. “No! Are you crazy, Aunt May?! I’m not even sure he remembers I  _ exist! _ ”

When she has finally processed his words, she releases her nephew’s cheeks and takes a step back, her red, tear-stained face showing a shadow of relief.

“Peter, you need help. Please, let me help you,” she whispers, as if scared of something, her eyes huge and glassy. “It’s just a crush, it will pass…”

Peter smiles, but his eyes are still sad – he has the look of a man who has just learned his fate.

“There is no helping me now, Aunt May. It’s  _ not _ just a crush…but whatever you call it, I’m gonna go through with it. So either call a nuthouse right now or let me do what I need to do!”

She gasps in shock and covers her mouth with her hand, crying silently.

Peter looks at her, guilt crushing his heart. He knows she doesn’t deserve the hell he is putting her through. It is unfair that he is the one deranged and revolting, but she is the one suffering because of it.

“I’m sorry– I– I didn’t mean…” he mutters. He lies. He feels guilty, yes. But he totally meant what he said, and now he can hardly bring himself to regret his outburst because it was just a means to an end after all. He needs to be with Mr. Stark, and not even Aunt May can stop him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s okay, baby.” May shakes her head and opens her arms. “Come here.”

Peter gives her a both incredulous and hopeful look before he lets her pull him into a hug. It can’t be so easy, can it?

“Oh, honey…” she whispers between sobs, stroking his hair soothingly, as if he were the one in need of comfort and not her. “He doesn’t even deserve you… Such a sweet little boy… He will break you, he will–”

“Aunt May…”

No, it _is_ _not_ so easy after all.

Peter tries to free himself from her embrace, “Please, don’t start again…”

“No, no, sorry.” She nods, letting him go and wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“Are we okay?” Peter asks cautiously.

“Yeah, sure.” She forces a smile. “Do what you think you need to do.”

“Really?” Peter cannot believe his ears.

“Yeah.” May nods. “But I’m gonna kill him if he hurts you.”

She looks like she is going to kill him either way. 


	8. Move on

Who the hell says no to Tony Stark?

And who the hell turns down the opportunity to be an Avenger?

Well, apparently, that impossible kid does.

“Tony, I know what you’re thinking, but don’t.” Rhodey raises his hand in a warning gesture.

Tony glares at him.

“I’m not gonna cry into my pillow all night long if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rhodey lifts his eyebrows sarcastically.

“Well, maybe you _should_. We both know you have abandonment issues, which is very understandable in your case, but we also know you’re gonna get wasted and cause some damage to the infrastructure.”

Tony presses his palm to his chest and opens his mouth in an exaggerated _you’ve hurt my feelings_ gesture.

“I don’t do that!”

“Yes, you _do_. You’re a total drama queen.” Rhodey snorts. “And you don’t take rejection lightly.”

“Can you blame me?” Tony chuckles sadly.

There is long silence, and then Rhodey puts his hand on Tony’s shoulder as he reassures him, “It’s probably for the best. I mean, haven’t you played a concerned dad long enough?”

Tony flinches, as if slapped, and shakes Rhodey’s hand off, brushing past him towards the exit.

“I don’t remember asking you to be my therapist.”

It comes out rude and much too defensive, but Tony couldn’t care less, trying to figure out what has gotten into him in the first place. He has never imagined himself as a father figure, but Rhodey’s joke made him outright _squirm_. It was a very logical assumption on Rhodey’s part, of course, and yet, Tony is grossed out by the _very idea_ of being Peter’s father. It just reminds him of his age, and that, in turn, does nothing but highlight the disgusting thoughts he has forbidden himself to have. The thoughts that make him almost physically sick. The thoughts that are the very opposite of fatherly.

“Come on, I’m just trying to help! That’s what friends are for, so suck it up!” Rhodey says light-heartedly to Tony’s back.

“I appreciate your input, but a male version of Pepper Potts breathing down my neck is the last thing I need right now,” Tony replies bitterly and leaves the conference room, where just ten minutes ago he had to fake-propose to Pepper to avoid yet another huge media scandal.

Since when does he even care about that shit, anyway?

*****

It has been a couple of days, and Tony is still quietly sulking and making the most of his drinking problem, which, surprisingly enough, has been _the least_ of his problems lately.

He wonders how it escalated so quickly that his life turned back into the hot mess it used to be, and the only nice thing he currently has going on is Peter Parker’s intense hero-worship. And what’s worse, he has been enjoying it _way_ more than he should have been. 

As a result, he’s messed it up too: he took it and twisted it the way it wasn’t supposed to bend. So there he is again – rejected, lonely, and miserable – as his withdrawal isn’t going too well.

He longs for a shot of adoration. He needs someone to look at him with desperate desire to please. He wants someone to call his name in a needy voice. He wishes to be the center of someone’s universe again. He is addicted, and he needs a hit of Peter Parker.

*****

Peter Parker needs a paper bag to breathe in.

He is about to have a panic attack because when he dialed Tony Stark’s number, he was hoping to jerk himself off to the man’s voice asking him to leave a message, as always – not to hear a deep and husky “Hello?”

Caught completely off guard, all Peter can do is utter a choked sound as the air seems to have stuck in his windpipe.

“Peter?” His own name resonates through his body like thunder. 

He bites his lip to stop the moan. The pain and the metallic taste of blood draw him back to reality.

“Mr. Stark...” he exhales shakily and falls silent again, struggling to breathe.

“Do you want... something?” Mr. Stark’s voice sounds rough and labored, making Peter’s dick twitch with every syllable, because yes, he _wants_.

“I– I’m... Sir, please,” Peter stammers, having forgotten for a moment that it isn’t one of his dirty fantasies and palming his hard-on through his Iron Man-themed underwear.

“I made you an Avenger. You were meant to stand beside me at the end of the world,” Mr. Stark says harshly, his voice strangely uneven and his tone betraying his suppressed anger and disappointment. “But I guess, that’s not what you want.”

Peter feels like he has been thrown into cold water – that is not the kind of stuff Mr. Stark usually says in his fantasies.

“No-no-no, it wasn’t like that, sir, _please_. I shouldn’t have said no. I was stupid. And scared. And– It won’t happen again, sir, _please_ ,” he begs immediately, tears of shame burning under his lashes.

What can he possibly say in his defense? The truth has never been an option. He can only wait for the verdict. Maybe, _maybe_ , Mr. Stark will have pity on him. Maybe, he can still forgive him. Maybe…

There is long silence.

“I suggest, you move on,” Mr. Stark says at last.

And Peter doesn’t hesitate a moment before he utters, his voice trembling:

“ _Move on?_ How can I move on if I can’t even _breathe_ right now, when you’re talking to me? What am I going to do without your guidance, Mr. Stark? Please, _help_ me– I’m lost, I–” Peter trails off and lets his hand wrap around his erection again as he listens to Mr. Stark’s uneven breaths: for some reason, guilt and shame only sharpen his arousal. Or is it the fact that he is being told off by Mr. Stark, yet again? He feels almost on edge.

Mr. Stark is silent for a while until...

“You insufferable...insolent...spoiled little _brat_...” his voice slurs into Peter’s ear, mixing his shame with pleasure, and the dangerous combination makes Peter tug at his leaking cock in almost abandon.

“Are. you. drunk. sir?” Peter punctuates every word of his belated realization with a sharp movement of his hips as he fucks into his own fist.

“Absolutely,” the man admits. “I’m _talking_ to you, aren’t I.”

And then he mumbles, more to himself, “God, I _hate_ kids...”

Peter snorts, breathless and almost hysterical with the weird, wild mixture of despair and desire.

“Come see me at the compound tomorrow, you little sh–” Mr. Stark says tiredly and hangs up, leaving Peter gasping and moaning in his pathetic attempts to find his release.

He imagines what it would be like to taste Mr. Stark’s breath on his lips and feel his hands on his skin, slowly sliding down his chest and over his hips. He pictures the man above him, _in_ him. All fully clothed, wearing one of his impeccable suits, while Peter himself is absolutely naked, vulnerable and trembling all over under him.

He moans, eyes shut tight in concentration and hips thrusting erratically into his hand.

He envisions his own legs, wrapped tight around Mr. Stark’s thighs while his sweat-slick skin is sliding against the man’s dress shirt in a tantalizingly slow motion. He imagines Mr. Stark’s hoarse voice whispering his name, calling him a _naughty little shit_.

And he comes almost instantly.

Comes all over his special T-shirt. The one he only wears for this kind of occasion. The one he has written across with a permanent marker.

_Property of Tony Stark._


	9. Not his mistress

Thinking back, Peter should have probably suspected something when the guards at the compound gates turned him away, but his desire to finally see Mr. Stark again has clouded his judgement completely. And so, in a few minutes of changing into his suit under the cover of the nearest bushes, he is crawling up the wall of one of the compound’s buildings to where he hopes the lab is.

*****

“Mr. Stark? Is this a bad time?”

“Ugh...” Tony jerks upright from the desk where he must have fallen asleep.

He was so hammered yesterday that he passed out right in the lab. And now his whole body hurts like hell, and his head feels split in half, and he is seriously considering the possibility of using duct tape to hold the pieces together.

Finally, he groans, stretching out his sore back.

“Were you sleeping, sir?” the overexcited voice asks.

“No, I was working with small parts,” Tony replies, his voice dripping with derision.  _ Good _ . If not his dignity, then at least his  _ attitude _ is still in place.

“Oh!” the boy exclaims with surprised fascination.

Tony growls and facepalms.

God, the kid still has to work on understanding sarcasm. And the concept of boundaries too, speaking of which…

“The hell are you doing in my lab, in my building, and, ultimately, in my life?” Tony asks, irritated but mostly with himself.

He is still a bit drunk, drowsy and, as a result, grumpy. And he is  _ definitely not _ ready to deal with the immediate reason of all the above, which is standing right in front of him.

The boy looks puzzled: his eyebrows furrow, and a little wrinkle appears on his forehead.

“Um... You invited me? Sir?” he offers carefully, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I absolutely did  _ not _ ,” Tony denies, one hundred percent convinced. He would have never…

“Yes, you  _ did _ . Yesterday,” Peter says, nodding slowly and carefully holding out his hand, as if trying to calm down a wild animal.

They stare at each other for a few moments, then Tony shakes his head in defeat. He rises from his seat, clutching at his desk for support as his head immediately starts spinning.

“Okay, maybe I did. I was drunk. Hell, I _still_ _am_ , so just– Just take whatever you want – money, car – whatever. And just _leave me the fuck alone_...” he waves his hand dismissively in the direction of the door. It usually works.

Not this time though.

Peter gapes at him for a second and then bites his lip to stop a giggle. He shakes his head, looking down, a sad smile at the irony of the situation on his lips.

“I’m not one of your mistresses, Mr. Stark,” he says, wishing to God he was. More than anything in the world.

Tony frowns at him suspiciously, trying to concentrate.

“Right.” He grips his spinning head with both hands and staggers towards the lab couch.

Peter rushes to help him lie down, but Mr. Stark pushes his hands away.

“Shoo! Leave me alone!  _ God _ , you’re  _ suffocating _ me...with your perfect–” he waves his hand vaguely, looking for words, “everything.”

Peter smiles fondly, trying to cover the tossing Mr. Stark with a blanket – the man is just  _ adorable _ like that.

He is out like a light in just a couple of seconds, and Peter simply stands there, watching him, smiling and trying to wrap his mind around everything that just happened.

So…Mr. Stark doesn’t remember their embarrassing conversation over the phone last night. Well, it is probably even better that way. Small blessings and all.

But will he remember  _ today _ ? Did he actually mean what he said? Is Peter really so annoying that Mr. Stark wanted to get rid of him at all costs? Is he so virtuous – just like that perfect Captain America – that he bores Mr. Stark to death? But only yesterday (only yesterday!) he was telling him off for just the opposite!

Peter is at a loss.

He thinks he should probably go now, but he doesn’t want to leave Mr. Stark alone like that, so he pulls out a chair and starts ruffling through the mechanical parts on the workbench. 

He smiles to himself when he finds small leftover pieces of the same alloy the Iron Suit is made of. They are going to do just nicely for the little gift Peter has in mind as an apology for so stupidly having turned Mr. Stark’s proposal down.

*****

At first, the man kicks and tosses for a bit under the blanket, but then he curls up in a fetal position and his breathing evens.

Peter watches and watches him, unable to look away. Before, Peter always thought that love was supposed to be a wonderful, happy feeling – sunshine and puppies and all. It is supposed to give people a reason to live, isn’t it? But Peter wants to fucking die – so much it is hurting him. He would give his whole life – willingly, gladly even – just to be able to sit down on that couch right now, and let Tony Stark’s head rest on his lap, and caress his hair, and make sure he sleeps soundly and peacefully for a few hours.

Peter presses the heels of his palms into his eyes in a desperate attempt to regain control of his emotions.

Breathe, Peter. Just  _ breathe _ . Be grateful you can at least look at him right now.

Peter sighs, quickly takes off his suit and puts on his usual jeans and a hoodie. Then he tinkers quietly with the metal parts for a few hours, running his eyes over Mr. Stark’s still figure from time to time.

By the time he has finished, it is around five in the afternoon, and his phone is silently blinking with a few missed calls and angry messages from Aunt May, who wants to know where the hell Peter is and why he skipped lunch with her.

Peter wishes he could stay with Mr. Stark even longer, but Aunt May will totally kill him if he skips dinner too. So he only just hesitates for a second before quietly leaning over and pressing his lips to Mr. Stark’s stubbled cheek and grazing his nose along his cheekbone.

He shouldn’t have done that – without permission, without consent – it wasn’t right, but it felt  _ nice _ . And instead of the crushing guilt, it sends a rush of blood to Peter’s groin.

He wants  _ more _ . He wants it  _ so badly _ that he has to press his hands to his sides to prevent himself from touching. He bites his lip, hoping that the sharp sting of pain might help him stop. 

Stop this. 

_Stop_ _now!_

He staggers back as if he has burned himself.

_ Never _ will Tony Stark fall asleep, calm and peaceful, on Peter’s lap.  _ Never _ will Peter hold him in his arms.  _ Never _ …

And he desperately needs to accept that.

He cannot live a fantasy forever, no matter how badly he wants to.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Peter whispers, smearing bitter tears over his burning cheeks, and closes the door behind himself.

Left on Mr. Stark’s desk, there stands a little hot rod red and golden spider figurine.


	10. Critical Error

The moment Tony wakes up on the lab couch and his mind is flooded with images of earlier that day, his first instinct is to pretend it was just a dream. Answering Peter Parker’s call, inviting him to come over, forgetting all about it and trying to get rid of him – it is all very hazy in Tony’s mind, very easily confused with a dream. 

Yeah, it was totally a dream. 

_ Please God, let it be a dream… _

But someone has kindly covered him with a blanket, and on top of his desk there is something that wasn’t there before. So no, it was  _ not _ a dream.

It was a mistake. Of course it was. But last night Tony was drunk, and the  _ “don’t say all the bullshit on your mind out loud”  _ box wasn’t ticked in his operating system. So when the very reason why he was so excessively drunk called him at an ungodly hour, he didn’t think twice before spilling his guts about how hurt he really had been when Peter had refused his offer to become an Avenger.

It is  _ bad _ . And that is only the part Tony  _ can _ vaguely recall – God knows what else he confessed to last night.

He could actually ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play the footage to him but he doesn’t. He just doesn’t know if he can handle what he might hear and see. Without knowing for sure, he can at least hope he didn’t say anything incriminating.

Having paced unsteadily to the kitchen, Tony notices that his hands are shaking only when he tries to pour himself a glass of water. His system has encountered a critical error and is about to crash. He can already feel a panic attack coming.

Breathe in…and out…in…and out…you are okay, you are  _ fine _ ...

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.!”

“Yes, sir,” the AI responds immediately.

“Last night or this morning…did I say to Mr. Parker anything I…should be worried about?”

“I don’t think so, sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says after a short moment, and just as Tony is about to sigh with relief, it adds, “although you did call Mr. Parker an  _ ‘insufferable insolent spoiled little brat’ _ , sir.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“That does sound like something I would say,” he admits, relieved and even a bit amused.

Yes, he’s made a mistake – _system critical_ _error_ – whatever. But in his defense, he was wasted, and, at least, he wasn’t the one who made that call in the first place, so…

So he doesn’t know what his excuse is now that he is back in the lab, clutching the little spider figurine in his hand and typing a message to Peter Parker.

Maybe his system  _ needs _ to crash before it can reboot again.

*****

The next morning Peter wakes up to a text, reading: _ “what’s that creepy little thing on my desk?” _

Peter blushes despite himself. Even though he doesn’t think Mr. Stark knows about name blending and couple names, he still somehow doubts that the implications of  _ Iron Spider _ will be lost on him, so...

_ “The Metallic Arachnid? it’s just a paperweight. i was bored so made it for you” _ he types, wincing at his own stupidity. Why did he have to be so obvious?

There is a long pause before the reply comes, saying: _ “i’ve given you the internship not so you would waste your time and my extremely valuable alloy on THAT” _

Peter blushes even more vigorously and sends: _ “you haven’t given me any internship” _

And then, having thought about it for a second, he adds:

_ “sir” _

_ “Well I JUST HAVE!” _ Mr. Stark’s reply  _ growls _ as Peter reads it in his head with the man’s annoyed intonation.

Peter wants to ask if Mr. Stark will still remember about it tomorrow but thinks better of it – he isn’t suicidal after all. So he just sits on his bed for like an hour, staring at the message with a dumb smile.

Yet again, he has been given an impossible chance, and he isn’t going to screw this one up.

No more noble gestures.

No more doing the right thing.

No more listening to reason.

_None_ _of that._

He will persuade, and demand, and manipulate, and beg. He will burn and go down crashing and pretend it doesn’t hurt. He will do whatever it takes to get Tony Stark.


	11. His whim

The afternoon is grey and rainy, the school is boring, and the homework is piling up, and there is absolutely no reason for Peter’s heart to pound like crazy, excited and joyful, as if something magical is about to happen. No reason at all, but it does, and when a posh black car pulls over in front of him and Happy emerges from it, Peter thinks with a chuckle that  _ that _ is how Harry Potter must have felt when Hagrid came to take him to Hogwarts.

God, he is such a nerd!

“Get in the car,” Happy offers as a form of greeting. His face looks like he is desperately trying not to roll his eyes at Peter’s obvious excitement. Although, come to think of it, it is just his usual expression.

“Mr. Stark told me to bring you to him.”

“But… But he didn’t say anything. I don’t… I don’t have an appointment…” Peter babbles, trying to hide the sudden shiver Happy’s words have sent down his spine. The phrasing wasn’t awkward or anything, nothing special really, but in Peter’s twisted mind it sounded like he had no say in the matter, like he was just Mr. Stark’s  _ whim _ and was about to be delivered to him. And the funny thing is, that thought alone makes Peter half-hard in his jeans.

Happy gives him another annoyed look, displeased as always, and says with the sarcasm he probably picked up from his boss, “I bet you don’t. If you did, you would have totally written about it in your little pink diary to remember forever and ever. Now get in the car.”

“Yes, right, right.” Peter blushes bright red and fumbles with his backpack, trying to cover his crotch with it and get inside the car as quickly as possible. His eyes are prickling with tears of embarrassment.

How obvious must his infatuation be that even Happy has picked up on it?

“You know, it has suddenly occurred to me, I’m really easy to kidnap, aren’t I?” Peter jokes, trying to cover up the awkwardness, when Happy gets in the driver’s seat. He glares at him through the rear-view mirror, and Peter’s fake light-hearted smile falters.

“Right. Shutting up now,” he mumbles, dropping his gaze and shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Happy narrows his eyes.

“I’m gonna take you to the base. You will follow me. You won’t touch anything. You won’t talk to anyone. And you will try to…not be your usual walking-disaster-self. Understood?”

Peter silently nods, eyeing his ragged Converse and almost expecting them to turn into glass slippers at any moment. That would not surprise him one bit.

*****

This time, the guards at the compound don’t try to stop Peter from getting inside: his retinal scan clears, and he follows Happy as instructed.

When they get into the main building, Peter has to suppress his urge to stare around and just ducks his head when some of the staff starts giving him interested looks. Peter doubts they know who he really is, but he’d really rather they just minded their own business instead of making him feel exposed without his suit to hide his identity.

Only when the lab door opens to let Peter in and then closes behind him, leaving Happy and all the curious Stark Industries’ employees outside, Peter sighs with relief.

Alone with Mr. Stark.  _ At last. _

__

_ ***** _

__

“At last!” Tony thinks, watching the door open for Peter Parker. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was growing impatient to see the kid. Tony finds his presence rather comforting – surprisingly so – given that it also makes him tense and overwhelmingly guilty like he is taking something that doesn’t belong to him. And Tony can’t help but wonder how he still isn’t torn apart by this obvious contradiction.

“Mr. Stark?” the boy’s voice calls, and Tony emerges from behind a piece of labware, accompanied by Peter’s rapt gasp.

_ God, does it feel good! _

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks hopefully, nervously smoothing down his ridiculous Iron Man T-shirt in an attempt to look more…presentable. Although, of course, it is no use. Not when in one room with Tony Stark, who looks like a god even in his worn, oil-stained T-shirt. 

Peter licks his lips and swallows nervously.

Tony smiles – the boy looks like he can barely contain his excitement and not throw himself around Tony’s neck. Or pass out.

“But of course, I wanted to see you,” Tony offers, as if it were something that goes without saying, and instantly has the pleasure of watching Peter’s eyes light up like two supernovas.

“Sir, I– I can’t even start telling you how… _ honored _ I am to have the chance of– of working with you, I–” Peter fumbles for words. He intertwines his fingers and presses his hands to his chest, obviously trying to ground himself. It looks a bit like he is praying, and Tony’s chest clenches delightedly at the thought.

It feels amazing to be a god, even if only for one person. And watching this boy almost shudder in ecstasy every time Tony looks at him, so ready to kneel in front of the altar he has raised for his personal deity – it is even more empowering than kicking villains’ asses in his technological marvel of a suit.

Tony tries his best not to look like a predator zeroing in on its prey while coming closer to Peter to place a hand on his shoulder.

The kid bows his head, trying to hide the small gasp he has let out at the contact, and doesn’t dare to look up at Tony when he speaks.

“Peter, I am sorry you had to witness me in…” Tony pauses, looking for the right words, “not my brightest moment–”

“Oh no-no-no, sir, I don’t mind at all,” Peter interrupts, jerking his head up. His expression is pleading as though he has done something wrong and now is begging for forgiveness.

Tony is so close to him now that he can see the smallest details: how Peter’s pupils blow wide open, swallowing the brown with fathomless black; how the adorable crimson blush is spreading like fire on his cheeks; how his skin instantly breaks in goosebumps, and the little hairs stand on end. All of that – just because Tony reassuringly squeezes his hand on Peter’s shoulder and moves his thumb up, just a little, and it touches the boy’s neck.

_ God, he is so sensitive! It must be hell for him to even wear clothes. If only I could take them off of him… _

Tony has to clear his throat when he finally notices that he has been staring at the kid’s face a bit too long, and the pause has stretched a bit too far.

“I wasn’t even sure you would come after what I had said and done, to be honest,” Tony lies.

From the very beginning (although he did his best to ignore that fact) Tony has known  _ exactly _ what kind of power he has over the boy. He has known that all he has to do is beckon with his finger – and Peter Parker would come running.

Although for a moment there, Tony thought he had miscalculated when Peter refused to become an Avenger and left him. But now it is clear that the kid couldn’t go far, even if he tried – the gravity of the black hole named Tony Stark would pull him right back. And the very fact that the kid is here now only makes it painfully obvious that, no matter what Tony says, or does, or how he treats him, Peter Parker is ready – glad even! – to take it all only to be by Tony’s side, to be close to him, to be a  _ good boy _ for him.

“Anyway… Even though I did a crappy job of showing it, this…this internship is not some charity – I really think you are brilliant and you  _ deserve _ to be here–” This time Tony is being sincere but gets immediately interrupted by an abrupt embrace:  the boy pitches forward and bumps his head into Tony’s chest, circling his arms around Tony’s waist and hugging him vehemently, almost lifting him off the ground.

“Thank you, thank you, sir! You have no idea how much it means to me, Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaims somewhere into the Arc Reactor, his voice breaking from emotional overload, before he finally lets go – so reluctantly, as though he has to let go of the best thing in the world.

And Tony just stands there, flustered, Peter’s reverent face mere inches away from his own, as his gaze follows the two wet tracks the kid’s tears are leaving on his cheeks.

_ Perfection,  _ he thinks. And it is the only thing on his mind – just how perfect and precious the boy is.

Tony has to literally make an effort to look away. 

He clears his throat again.

“Right then, let me show you the lab.”


	12. Come closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!  
> ngl i'm not happy with this chapter, but it was written like 2 years ago, and I'm not gonna rewrite it now, so...¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Feel free to kick me in the comments if you end up hating it

Tony watches. He watches Peter watch him. Sometimes the boy sneaks furtive glances when Tony is looking elsewhere, and sometimes he just sits down into his chair, pulls his legs up to himself, props his head up and shamelessly watches while Tony tinkers with some piece of the armor. 

To have that stare directed at him all the time is dizzying in its intensity: Peter watches him with a mixture of longing, awe, and fascination that makes Tony feel both like something precious and desired and also like he is unworthy of it – a  _ thief _ stealing the forbidden fruit.

And he should have put an end to that, but instead, Tony just pretends he doesn’t notice Peter’s hungry looks. It is convenient like that. Tony figures, the boy is too busy watching him to notice that he himself is being watched.

And Tony watches. Watches the way Peter’s hands fidget every time he addresses the boy. Watches how Peter ducks his head, nibbling on his lip nervously, trying to hide his smile, every time Tony praises him. Watches him tremble, and blush, and gasp whenever Tony pays him any attention at all.

The way he looks at him – face slightly up, lips parted, hearts in his eyes – makes Tony’s own breath catch in his throat. He cannot look away.

He watches, his greedy eyes dragging along Peter’s features, when after a few hours of working on a project the boy finally lifts his arms above his head, arches his back and stretches, making his spine crack back into the right position and groaning softly with relief. His ridiculous  _ Physics is theoretical _ T-shirt slides up, revealing a thin slice of pale skin on his stomach. The image burns down Tony’s spine, flooding his veins with greedy lust and the warmth that makes his stomach tighten before it pools hotly between his legs. His pulse quickens. His breath hitches. Everything feels out of control.

Just watching suddenly feels not enough. Not nearly. He needs to touch. To feel that skin under his lips. To nudge the collar of Peter’s T-shirt aside and bite into that pale neck until it bruises. Until he has left a mark, which, he knows, will fade quicker than he would want it to.

He wants to drag his fingers over that apparent bulge of Peter’s cock pushing so hard against its confines. He wants to whisper filth into the boy’s ear to make him blush and hide his face into Tony’s neck while he fucks him apart.

It rattles Tony how much he craves it. His mind is reeling. His emotions are compromised. His cock is so hard it aches. It makes him sick, and angry, and confused. But he can’t touch. He can’t touch. Just watch. Only watch.

*****

Mr. Stark is smart, and strong, and brave, and noble, and just  _ gorgeous _ . No other man can compare. He is the one who saw Peter when nobody else did. He looks so proud when he watches him work. He is so good to him it sometimes makes tears well up in Peter’s eyes.

So every time Mr. Stark asks him to be careful out there, orders him not to take unnecessary risks and checks his vitals each time Peter looks even a bit off – every time Peter wants to  _ scream _ . Because he is not a good boy Mr. Stark thinks he is. And he does not deserve being treated like some precious, fragile thing. Because he is  _ not _ . His heart is not as pure and rare as Mr. Stark seems to think.

He is awkward, and insecure, and emotional, and a total trainwreck all around, but deep down, somewhere in the dark corner of his mind, there hides  _ obscenity _ no one would ever suspect in an inexperienced teenager. Those thoughts make him cry out desperately under his blanket as he fingers himself, imagining Tony Stark fucking him; those thoughts make his mouth water as he envisions Tony Stark shoving his dick down his throat; those thoughts make his life a living hell because Tony Stark would never even  _ think _ of doing those things to him in real life.

Despite everything Peter says, despite everything Peter does, Mr. Stark still has no idea of his darkness. He just doesn’t see it. Perhaps, it’s time to show him?

Peter is turning that thought over and over in his mind while being driven to the Avengers base. It doesn’t even remotely resemble a good idea, mostly because his only game plan is to drop to his knees and beg Mr. Stark to fuck him, which…

Peter bites his lip, trying to get rid of the image that has popped up in his mind’s eye, because it alone makes his cock twitch.

Looking back, it probably wasn’t a good idea to think about these things in the car, with Happy watching him suspiciously all the way to the compound.

What if he sees Peter’s usual agitation for what it really is? What if he tells Mr. Stark that Peter Parker is all hot and bothered every time he goes to see his mentor?

_ Well, that would definitely solve one problem _ , Peter chuckles to himself and shivers at the thought of the shitload of other problems it would create.

No, if he wants to actually achieve something here, he needs to play it nice and subtly.

Right. 

Okay. 

_ Okay _ .

*****

It is a devious plan. A  _ dangerous _ plan. But Peter is desperate enough to actually go through with it as long as it serves its purpose: as long as it makes Mr. Stark’s eyes linger on him just a bit longer; as long as it gives him the chance to lean into Mr. Stark’s chest and brush up against his body in a lascivious –  _ scandalous  _ – way.

He bites his lip.

“Mr. Stark! I– I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid, I– I can’t really figure this thing out.” Peter is intentionally holding a piece of the mechanism wrong so that he could revel in his mentor’s scent when he comes closer to help.

Peter trembles slightly when he imagines Mr. Stark standing behind him, mere inches away from his tense body; he imagines the man peer over his shoulder to see what seems to be the issue, breathing hotly into his ear. A warm hand would slip around his waist, and squeeze his side as Mr. Stark leans down to nuzzle at his neck. And he would press himself against Mr. Stark’s firm body, press his ass right onto Mr. Stark’s dick…

Lost in his thoughts, Peter misses the moment Mr. Stark actually comes up and stands behind him. Peter only notices that when Mr. Stark has had to put his hand on the small of his back to motion him a bit aside.

Startled, Peter drops the piece he is holding with a loud clank that makes him jump in surprise. And instead of moving aside to let Mr. Stark see the mechanism, Peter freezes where he stands. He can almost feel his body melt, starting from the point where Mr. Stark’s palm is pressed to his lower back.

“Is something wrong?” Mr. Stark’s hot breath burns his neck just like Peter imagined it would. It makes him shiver, suppressing a moan, and swing his head around, tilting it up a bit, to look at Mr. Stark.

The boy’s nose halts an inch away from Tony’s. His wet lips immediately part with a gasp.

Tony starts to feel itchy all over and like his tie is suddenly too tight (and he isn’t even wearing one!). He almost leans forward, brushing off the warning sirens in his head and surrendering helplessly to his desire, when the boy looks up from under his lashes and Tony sees his eyes: his pupils are blown, making his irises appear dark, almost black. That makes Tony shrink back because, answering his own question, Tony’s mind is screaming that everything – _all of it_ – is wrong.

_ So stop it, Tony. Don’t be an idiot. You are not going to die if you don’t kiss him. But if you do, you might. And probably will. _

“I– I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Stark! I’m so clumsy. I’ll do better, I promise!” the boy whispers almost into his lips.

Tony tries everything he can think of to suppress a shiver. He has overestimated his self-control again. He thought he could do it.  _ Easily _ , he told himself. Just teach him how to be a superhero. Just help him use his brilliant scientific mind. Just give the kid the opportunity he deserves. Tony owes him at least that. And he has convinced himself that it would not be weird. Why would it be? He would just be a mentor figure the boy so clearly needs. Nothing wrong with that.

But _ this, _ the way they are standing so close to each other now, is starting to feel very intimate very fast.

“It’s okay.” Tony turns away first. He forces himself to, or else he will… He does  _ not _ want to even think of what he might do.

What would it take him to grab the kid, bend him over the workbench and fuck him hard right now? Tony doesn’t know. What he does know though, is what it takes him  _ not  _ to do that – just exactly all of his willpower.

Tony closes his eyes to escape the picture of a writhing, sweating, panting Peter Parker lying splayed out on his workbench, but it is already burning across his mind, hot and painfully sharp, so when he closes his eyes, he can only see it more clearly.

For weeks, Tony has been ignoring the flutter in his stomach whenever he was around Peter. He has been trying to convince himself that it was just his body’s natural response to the lack of sexual activity after Steve had left him. But deep down he knows that is not the case. He isn’t oblivious enough not to recognize that the attraction, the boy’s illicit appeal (which he could never openly acknowledge) is the only thing that does it for him these days. And he hates himself for this (yet another) weakness. He hates the fact that Peter’s mere presence in his lab is gnawing at what little resolve he has left. And he despises all of it because it makes him (yet again) question what kind of a man he is to desire such an unspeakable thing and not have the strength to overcome this obsession.

“Mr. Stark, please don’t be mad. I really want to do good, to– to please you, sir,” Peter begs, looking up at Tony’s face, trying to make eye contact again.

_ Whoa, kid. You are not making it any easier for me, are you? _ Tony thinks to himself as all the blood in his body suddenly rushes south at the words  _ ‘please you’ _ .

“Here, let me help you with that,” he says, not sure himself if he even means the mechanism, and leans over the workbench slightly, letting his palm fall from Peter’s back.

The boy exhales sharply, as if he has been holding his breath for quite some time.

Peter takes a step back. He is having a hard time standing up because of how wobbly his legs feel. It seems to him that Mr. Stark’s handprint is burned into his skin forever, so hot it is. His mouth is dry. He is feeling dizzy. He was in over his head the moment he decided to manipulate Mr. Stark into coming a bit closer.

Apparently, he hasn’t been prepared for all his senses to go into overload. The desire, the fear, the shame – it all has flared a hundred percent hotter than it usually would when it was just in Peter’s head. He is so aroused and terrified he can hardly breathe. And he wants more of it.  _ So much more! _ He wants Mr. Stark to shove him on the desk, ass in the air, and hold him down by the neck while he punishes him for being such a naughty brat...

“Okay, let’s try it!” Mr. Stark exclaims, finally straightening his back.

“What!?” Peter squeaks, horrified to death that he has said his thoughts out loud.

Mr. Stark gives him a confused look.

“The mechanism,” he clarifies at last. “It’s ready.”

“Oh!” It’s all Peter can force out of himself, blushing intensely.

He is not a little boy anymore. He is  _ not _ . Seriously.

So what if he wants to cry with frustration and anger at himself and his stupid,  _ stupid  _ superpower? It doesn’t mean anything. Adults are allowed to cry too, okay? 

But why,  _ why _ does his own body have to betray him like that? And right now – just as he was going to show his mentor that he knew how to be shameless and dirty. Because that’s all he really is.  _ Filth _ . And he needs Mr. Stark to know it – to stop treating him the way he doesn’t deserve: like he is just an innocent child caught in the middle of Tony Stark’s crumbling world of adulthood. Which is also on fire.  _ Bad Influence _ by  _ Pink _ playing in the background.

Yeah.

Although, wait… Maybe, Mr. Stark wants him to be good because it is exactly what he needs right now in his life full of pain and betrayal? Someone good and sweet?

Then Peter will be just that. Good for Mr. Stark.

Peter looks at Mr. Stark tinkering with a metal piece, completely engulfed in his work.

Unaware of Peter’s lust. Untainted by Peter’s guilty desire.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now. To beg him not to push him away. Just this once. This one time...

But one time will never be enough, and Peter knows it.

And so, just a few inches away from his prize, he takes a step back.

For now.


	13. Breathe him in

“Hey, Mr. Stark!”

“Jesus fuck!” Tony startles, caught completely off guard by Peter’s unexpected presence, and spills the glass of water he’s been holding all over himself. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.! There’s a spider in my lab!”

“It appears so, sir,” the AI confirms with a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Oh, sorry, sir. I– I didn’t mean to startle you, I just–” Peter hastily jumps down from the ceiling, where he’s been hiding from the cleaning lady while waiting for Mr. Stark. “I was bored, so I thought I could sneak in and work a bit more on my webbing project–”

And before Tony can get over his surprise and answer, Peter grabs a cloth from the nearest workstation and drops to his knees in front of him in one swift motion. _Actually meeting Tony’s gaze_ as he does so.

How many times has Tony had to force images like this out of his mind? 

Too many. 

Enough to be prepared. 

And yet, he is completely defenseless now that they are playing out right before his eyes.

Tony’s breath hitches when the boy’s hand gently rubs his lower abdomen, trying to wipe away the wetness.

“Let me take care of that, Mr. Stark.” The boy’s shaky exhale burns Tony’s skin through the soaked fabric of his white shirt, making Tony’s fist clench tight on the now empty glass he is holding to prevent him from grabbing Peter’s ruffled hair and…

_Just look at that little mouth, Tony. It’s begging for your cock. Begging to be filled with your come._

Tony throws his head back a little and squeezes his eyes shut to make the picture of the kneeling boy go away. No use – it seems to have been burned on the inside of his eyelids.

_Flushed cheeks. Dark eyes. Wet lips._

In his mind’s eye, Tony is already seeing himself reach out to fist his fingers in Peter’s curls and drag him into a more preferable angle.

“Open that pretty mouth for me,” Tony longs to tell Peter.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he hears himself say, hardly recognizing his own harsh, throaty voice that sounds like it is on the verge of a gasp. He grabs Peter’s wrist and pushes it away. “Stop it. It’s just water, no big deal.”

“But, _sir_ …” The boy licks his lips – in a _sinful_ way – and tries to protest, but Tony has already forced himself to take a step back.

“No, it’s fine,” Tony assures him, not really knowing what exactly he is referring to. Because there is nothing _fine_ about _any of it_. Not a damn thing.

“I’ll just...go change. I have a spare T-shirt in here somewhere, so…” he trails off and turns his back to Peter, struggling to unbutton his wet shirt and pull it off with trembling fingers.

Peter is still on his knees, watching him from under his eyelashes. _Hungrily_. And Tony doesn’t even need to turn around to know that. He just _knows_ – he can _sense_ it. His exposed skin feels like it is _on fire_ under that gaze.

_Or is it all in your head, Tony? Surely, you must realize the boy is way too innocent to deliberately try and seduce you, right?_

“Right… I’ll be back in a minute,” he says, trying to look as flippant as he possibly can, tossing the crumpled fabric onto the floor and disappearing into the adjacent storage room without as much as turning his head to look at the boy, because if he does…

He shuts the door behind himself, leaning on it heavily with his whole body, and lets himself slide down until he is sitting on the floor. His heart is beating dangerously fast. He tosses his head back, letting out a sigh of relief.

_Narrow escape._

If he had spent one more minute in there with Peter, he would have…

There is no telling what he could have done.

Tony attempts to count to ten to force his pulse under control and will the bulge in his pants away, but he doesn’t manage it at the first try. Nor at the next.

So he tries again. And again. And he must have lost track of time because when he finally emerges from his hiding, Peter is already gone.

Along with his shirt.

*****

_Come on, don’t be shy. There’s no point in playing innocent now. It’s right there, in your closet. There’s no denying it. No going back. It’s_ already _in your closet. Just a few feet away._ Right there.

Peter sighs resignedly as he rolls onto his stomach and tries to get the torturing thoughts out of his head, but the picture of Mr. Stark’s muscles bulging under the naked skin of his back keeps dancing in his mind’s eye. The way he tugged at the delicate fabric of his shirt. The way it was sliding off inch by inch. Slowly. _Slowly_.

Peter is already starting to feel his blood boil. And he knows what is going to happen next. The little hairs on his body will bristle. The heady feeling will come over him, like an itch of anticipation, like a promise of more, like a beacon calling him closer. Closer to the object of his desire he can’t touch. Closer to the man he can’t have. Closer to the edge he can’t fall over.

_Come take it out of your bag. Isn’t that what you stole it for?_

Peter’s sin is calling for him. Calling with Mr. Stark’s voice. Driving him to the shirt he snatched. Driving him mad.

_Come on, come on! It smells of_ him _. You can sense it even from your bed. Why don’t you just take it out?_

It is getting harder for Peter to ignore the nagging of his senses. His heart is pounding on the verge of a heart attack. He is hard as a rock in his pants, but Aunt May is home tonight, and Peter doesn’t trust himself to be quiet. Not if he actually takes Mr. Stark’s shirt out of his bag in the closet.

_Why are you fighting this? You know how sweet it’s gonna be. Like he is here, with you._

Peter feels like crying – his raging senses just won’t stop. It is like his mind and body are rejecting everything else but this lewd drive.

_You can’t fight this. Give in. You’re gonna like it. You know you will. The closest thing you’re ever gonna get to your real obsession. Breathe it in._

It is painfully obvious now that Peter is not going to be let go of. His pillow is warm and damp from tears under his hand. Just like the skin under Mr. Stark’s shirt was when he pressed his palm to the wet fabric in the moment of temporary lapse of control.

Peter lets a small whine escape him, shaky from what feels like an eternity of holding back.

Once he decides to give in to his temptation, it only takes Peter a few moments to jump out of bed and to his closet where from his bag Mr. Stark’s shirt is enticing him.

What he did today wasn’t planned (since he is trying to be good and all). What he did today, he had only allowed himself to imagine in the dark, under the safe cover of his sheets. Peter had never thought he would ever dare to actually do it. And yet it was so easy, so _natural_ to drop to his knees before Mr. Stark in the most explicit gesture he could think of.

But even then, Mr. Stark didn’t take the hint. He just walked away, leaving nothing but desperation in Peter’s heart and his wet shirt on the floor. So yeah, Peter has taken what he could and refuses to feel guilty about it because it’s not like he can afford to be picky.

When Peter first clenches the fabric in his fingers, he feels almost like he’s been punched in the face by the overwhelming scent of Mr. Stark. It is so out of place in his small, messy bedroom, as if telling him that he has no right to have it. Stolen, hidden, embarrassing, and _wrong_ – this shirt, placed on the edge of his bed, is the embodiment of Peter’s feelings for Mr. Stark. And that is why it feels _so good_ to kneel before it – to throw all the shame and guilt away and just let the scent envelop him when he finally buries his face in it.

_Breathe him in._

His mouth waters uncontrollably, making the saliva dribble from his gasping lips down his chin and onto the shirt when he touches himself, pulling at his cock in a desperate, erratic rhythm.

_Breathe him in._

It feels like with every breath Tony Stark infiltrates his whole being, making his body burn and slowly melt into nothing. His every cell is soaking up the faint scent of his mentor. But it isn’t enough. _Still_ isn’t enough. So Peter scrambles awkwardly onto the bed, pulls the rumpled shirt onto his shoulders and wraps it around himself with trembling hands.

_Breathe him in._

Peter wants to scream with pleasure – it is _so much better_ than just imagining Mr. Stark’s scent around him – but he can’t scream, not with Aunt May in the apartment. He reminds himself of that again and again, gasping, sobbing, and whining as quietly as he possibly can while sliding two spit-slick fingers in and out of his tight hole and imagining Mr. Stark instead. Mr. Stark’s hand on his dick. Mr. Stark’s fingers in his ass. Mr. Stark’s voice in his ear.

_I am here with you. All around you. Breathe me in._

Peter throws his head back onto the pillow, squeezing his eyes impossibly tight not to let his vision shatter the perfect illusion he has created. Instead, he deepens his ragged breaths and allows his other senses to take over. Lets his heightened sense of smell distract him. Lets his perfect hearing deceive him. Lets his whole body betray him. All of it – just to believe, if only for a second, that he isn’t alone anymore, that he is desired, that he is loved back. A perfect lie.

He comes, screaming into his pillow and knowing that he won’t be able to sleep that night. Mr. Stark is everywhere – inside his mouth, inside his skin, inside his mind – tearing him apart with his perfect but devastating presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are enjoying my work, please leave a comment or send an Ask on tumblr 'cause I could really use some inspiration right now.


	14. Babysitting

It is pretty late (the clock in the lab shows 8:27 p.m.), and Peter still has lots of school assignments to finish by tomorrow, but Mr. Stark seems to have lost track of time (as he usually does when he is working on a project). And as Peter usually does, he says nothing about the time. He  _ never _ initiates his leaving Mr. Stark’s lab. He enjoys every moment he can spend with his mentor, stealing discreet glances when he isn’t looking, watching his hands as he tinkers with mechanisms, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne. The latter never fails to turn his mind into a mess of guilt and arousal – rather predictably, actually, after that night two weeks ago when he came all over Mr. Stark’s stolen shirt, completely dazed and overwhelmed by the man’s musky scent.

Peter kind of expected Mr. Stark to notice that the shirt was gone and spent the rest of that memorable night trying (and failing) to come up with some sort of explanation. Eventually, he decided to tell Mr. Stark that he had taken his shirt just to wash and return it later. And it was indeed a very good, sensible excuse, except…Peter wasn’t entirely sure he could ever bring himself to actually give it back.

But Mr. Stark (God bless his  obliviousness !) never mentioned the shirt again. He must have just forgotten about it, or hadn’t even noticed it was missing in the first place.

And so, they just continue their normal routine: Mr. Stark keeps teaching him stuff, and praising him, and being his casual nonchalant self while Peter keeps desperately pining and longing, balancing on the very edge of his sanity.

He is too far gone to deny that he is virtually addicted to that tension he feels when Mr. Stark is around. The little jolts of desire he experiences every time he and Mr. Stark make physical contact are like shocks of electricity – the result of Peter’s sensory awareness turned up to maximum. No little detail escapes him: he can sense Mr. Stark’s glances with his skin; his heart skips a beat every time their fingers linger against each other momentarily as they pass each other some tool; a shiver makes its way down his spine when Mr. Stark’s voice calls his name.

And no matter how many times he rehearses everything he is going to say to Mr. Stark in front of the Iron Man poster in his room, he still ends up babbling and stuttering and making a complete fool of himself in front of the real Iron Man. His mouth goes dry, his heart races, and his whole body winds up so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. And he absolutely  _ loves _ every second of it.

So what if it is one-sided?

So what if he is the only one acting like an idiot whenever they interact?

So what if it is pathetic how much he needs Mr. Stark while Mr. Stark doesn’t need him at all?

_ So what? _

The clock shows 8:46, and Peter really should have said something by now, but there is no way in hell he is going to bring up his goddamn homework. Not again. The last time he did it was embarrassing enough, thank you very much. Besides, lately, Peter has been trying to avoid mentioning anything that could remind Mr. Stark of his young age, in hopes that maybe – just maybe – Mr. Stark would forget Peter is (technically) still a child and look at him the way you don’t look at children.

_ As if. _

It is stupid, really. Nothing is going to come out of it, but he still keeps stealing furtive glances at the man when he isn’t looking until the clock beeps 09:00.

Mr. Stark lifts his head from his work and raises his eyebrows when he spots Peter.

“The hell are you still doing here?” he asks, looking a bit out of it.

“I– I’m–” Peter stutters (see!), confused, and then just vaguely gestures over his desk, showing the work he has been  _ not _ doing.

“Look at the time!  _ Jeez _ ...” Tony growls, annoyed that he has lost his grip on reality again. It isn’t exactly like he has forgotten about Peter being there with him – more like he has forgotten that he has to... _ give him back. _

Peter has somehow managed to worm his way in past all of Tony’s defenses and seems to have insinuated himself not only into his life, but into the very fabric of his being, so Tony has unconsciously started to take Peter’s presence as a given, as his _undisputed_ _right_. And now that he has suddenly been reminded that he has no rights at all… Tony wants to scream and break something.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m just– Not good at this…babysitting thing.”

Tony mentally smacks himself. 

_ Why _ did he have to use  _ that _ word? One hell of a Freudian slip, considering everything to do with children makes Tony uneasy these days – namely, it makes him want to either throw up or run for the hills. Or both. It is probably the way his subconsciousness is trying to  _ not so subtly _ tell him to stay the hell away from Peter Parker.

Peter pulls a face, failing to hide his almost physical pain at the word.

_ Babysitting! _

Is that what it is to him?

Holy shit.

_ He _ is supposed to be the one naïve, and Mr. Stark – the one wanton, and not the other way around!

_ God! _ It is even worse than Peter thought.

But Mr. Stark looks tired and sincerely apologetic, so Peter doesn’t say anything. He probably would, but he doesn’t trust his voice not to break with tears of hurt burning in his eyes.

Mr. Stark keeps saying something about Happy driving him home and calling Aunt May to offer an explanation, but Peter isn’t really listening, too busy trying to talk himself down.

_ Babysitting _ .

It is probably his cue to give up and let go, but his stupid, stubborn hope just  _ won’t _ die, no matter how it is tested again and again every day. No matter what Mr. Stark just said. No matter how it hurts. There is no way back.

Peter grabs his backpack.

If he gets to be the one shameless and tempting, he might as well be.

“Sorry about the time, Mr. Stark. I just didn’t want to go. I wish I could spend the whole night with you...working.” The pause is deliberate, and even though he thinks he might die after that, Peter looks directly into Mr. Stark’s eyes when the man turns at his phrasing way too hastily.

So he  _ did _ get the hint this time, huh?  _ Good _ .

“Good night, Mr. Stark,” Peter says and walks out of the lab, leaving Tony amazed by how innocent he is that he doesn’t even see how his words could have a double-meaning. Or is it just Tony’s own twisted mind that wants to see something that isn’t there?

He needs to chill out,  _ dammit _ – he is definitely the only one reading all that filthy subtext into a perfectly normal conversation.

Definitely.

*****

Walking towards the elevator, Peter is still a bit high on the adrenaline from his sassy comment. He didn’t think he would dare. But he  _ did. _ And it felt… _ liberating _ . Because Peter is sick and tired of Mr. Stark always thinking he is just ‘the innocent little Peter whom he needs to protect’.

He is  _ not _ .

Hell, if Mr. Stark could only see the mayhem and wild frenzy in his head! There is  _ nothing _ innocent about that.

Peter is so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost misses a click-clack sound of heels on the concrete floor.

He lifts his head and sees a chick redheaded woman walking down the empty hall towards the lab.

Everything about her – her dress, her expression, the way she walks – makes her look a bit menacing, and even though he has never met her in person before, Peter easily recognizes Pepper Potts, Mr. Stark’s…assistant.

She seems to be paying no attention to Peter, too determined to reach the lab as soon as possible, so Peter contemplates pretending he isn’t even there (he is pretty good at that), but then he thinks it would just be weird if he didn’t say something.

“Hello?” he says, uncertain.

She stops abruptly, sighs dramatically and turns around to face him.

“So you are  _ him _ ,” she states, skipping the small talk.

“Him?” Peter asks, taken aback by such a greeting.

“The boy Tony is so excited about,” she specifies with a smile, but her eyes aren’t smiling. They are piercing Peter, as if scanning him for some kind of fault, so he practically has to suppress the urge to shiver.

“Uh– Yeah, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself,” he says, offering his hand to Pepper. “I’m Peter Parker.”

“I know who you are. I’m Pepper Potts,” she shakes his hand with a new smile, meant to hide her contempt, but her next question still gives it away.

“So tell me, Peter, what is so  _ special _ about you?”

Whoa! She clearly has no problem being blunt. Peter’s heart jumps triumphantly: she doesn’t know! Mr. Stark hasn’t told her he is Spider-Man.  _ Not even her! _

“Oh, I am  _ very _ special,” Peter replies with a matching fake smile: if Miss Potts thinks she can be rude, then Peter figures he shouldn’t play nice either. “And what about  _ you? _ ”

The woman is silent for a long moment. She is clearly still processing Peter’s words.

“Nice meeting you, Miss Potts. I guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot now that Mr. Stark and I are…working together.  _ Closely _ ,” Peter says with as much double meaning as he can fit into one sentence and watches Pepper Potts’s face change from confused into outright  _ scandalized _ .

He rushes away before she can reply (who needs elevators if you can safely jump out of a window?).

*****

_ “I know who you are.” _

Peter feels proud that he played it so cool with Miss Potts because he  _ also _ knows who  _ she _ is. Or rather, who she  _ wants  _ to be, and he is going to stop her at all costs.

She is smart, and beautiful, and flawlessly competent in solving Tony Stark’s problems. And Peter hates her. Because the engagement ring she was wearing seemed to burn Peter’s skin when he shook her hand. So yeah, he fucking  _ hates _ her, and he would singlehandedly take that goddamn ring to Mordor if it stopped the wedding.

She must have felt his mood because she disliked him so openly that no Spider-sense was needed to get that message. And it could not have been a coincidence.

But still, Peter has handled her nicely today. And he hopes she is feeling exactly as she should be –  _ threatened _ .

There is only one thing that doesn’t add up though, and that thought won’t leave Peter alone: Pepper Potts was being  _ unprofessional _ today. What can she possibly know that she hated Peter long before she met him and enough to be so uncharacteristically...not nice?

What is it again that she said?

_ “The boy Tony is so excited about.” _

Tony Stark is ‘ _ excited’ _ about  _ him! _ Excited enough to make Pepper Potts jealous! And all that without even telling her about the Spider-Man thing!

How is it even possible?

Peter has no idea. But the fact itself is making him almost  _ ecstatic _ .

So he pays no attention whatsoever to the lecture Aunt May gives him when he finally gets home. His homework completely forgotten, he spends the whole night picturing hundreds of different scenarios of what Mr. Stark might have told Pepper Potts about him.

Did he praise him? Did he say he was a good boy? Did he mention his worship? Or his pining? Or his lust?

Of course, he didn’t. He probably hasn’t even noticed anything out of the ordinary yet. Because seriously, how is Peter’s reaction to him all that different from any other person’s reaction to meeting Tony Stark?

Yeah, exactly.

Mr. Stark must be pretty much used to all that hype around his person by now. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Peter’s exaggerated excitement and hasn’t asked him to stop yet. He most likely just has no idea that something is off.

But Peter enjoys pretending that he does. He touches himself to the thought of Mr. Stark telling Pepper that he is drinking like the world is going to end not because of that treacherous bastard Steve Rogers, but because he can’t get Peter Parker’s barely contained desire out of his head.

As a result, Peter is numb from the lack of sleep and the emotional overload, so the next day at school is a little bit hazy.

He also feels kind of uneasy. He has a strange feeling of distress but can’t quite put his finger on it. He figures it might be his Spider-sense.

He is distracted and restless and can’t stop fidgeting. He wants – he  _ needs  _ – to do...something. Or  _ not _ do. He can’t decide which, and it is  _ frustrating _ .

So when school is finally over, he is almost ready to cry with relief by the time Happy picks him up to take him to Mr. Stark.

*****

When Peter enters the lab, Mr. Stark is already there, working on something that looks rather complicated, so he just motions to Peter to get to work.

It is the usual routine, nothing extraordinary, and yet Peter can’t concentrate on the simplest task. He feels tense, his movements are even clumsier than usual, and he can’t shake off the feeling that something is about to happen.

Honestly, Peter expected today to be awkward as hell after what he pulled yesterday, but Mr. Stark hasn’t even mentioned it. He is just adjusting parts to a mechanism with some weird agitation, so Peter doesn’t dare to speak to him, even though he needs some technical advice. He just watches and watches from under his lashes, assembling and reassembling the same part for the third time in a row just to appear busy. He isn’t sure how long it has been when...

“Goddammit!” Tony throws his screwdriver onto the counter with an irritated gesture.

His sudden outburst startles the kid. Everything he has tried to do today is no good: he burned the coffee machine in the morning, he yelled at four different people for no good reason, he accidentally scratched one of his cars, and now he can’t even build a simple generator because his fingers are all thumbs and his mind is elsewhere. He is still mulling over that talk –  _ yell  _ – Pepper gave him yesterday.

Tony rises from his chair and starts pacing nervously, running his spread fingers through his hair in agitation.

Peter watches him carefully, silently wondering if the mood he has been in all day today is  _ catching _ and somehow has already affected Mr. Stark too, when the man finally stops, grabs the unfortunate generator from the desk and throws it into a wall.

The metal pieces burst into all directions.

Peter jumps out of his chair.

“Mr. Stark, no!” In a blink of an eye, he stands between his angry mentor and his desk, preventing him from grabbing and smashing anything else.

“ _ Move! _ ” Mr. Stark orders, his voice dangerously low, but Peter shakes his head defiantly and puts his palms in front of himself like a shield.

“Please, don’t– I won’t let you destroy your work, sir.”

Mr. Stark rolls his eyes and growls with annoyance.

By now, Peter should have really known better than to provoke Tony Stark when he is angry. But he  _ doesn’t want _ to know better, so when he tries to catch Mr. Stark’s hand before it can take anything valuable from the desk, in a few seconds, he finds himself face down on that very desk, bent over the edge and his arm twisted at a wrong angle behind his back.

The sudden pain mixes with sharp pleasure as Peter feels Mr. Stark’s thigh press to his own, holding him in place. 

He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He is being held tightly, and it is the only reason he doesn’t try to push his ass back into Mr. Stark’s crotch.

_ Yes! Yes, punish me! Show me my place! Please, please... Don’t let go, please… _ His mind is screaming in agony of humiliation and arousal.

It is too much like one of those fantasies Peter has, so he can’t hold back a moan. The sound comes out loud as thunder in the silence of the room. And Peter is immediately released.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, kid.” Mr. Stark’s voice is confused and truly remorseful. “I– I’m having a bad day today. I should have cancelled–” He falls silent when he sees that Peter is still in the position he has left him in and not even trying to get up from the desk.

“Shit,” Tony whispers because he doesn’t trust his voice anymore and rushes to help Peter up.

“How bad is it? Did I break your arm?” he asks gravely, his eyes scanning Peter’s body for visible injuries.

It feels like the right time to start panicking, but he can’t – not before he knows exactly what is wrong and has helped the boy.

To Peter, Mr. Stark’s voice sounds muffled as his blood is banging into his eardrums.

He doesn’t want to move from the desk. He wants to just forever lie there, ass in the air, and pretend he isn’t painfully hard.

He is too mortified to get up. It is easier to just lie there and not have to deal with this whole mess. But it is not an option, so Peter shuts his eyes tightly and finally straightens up as Mr. Stark’s hands tug at his forearm lightly.

“I’m okay, sir,” he utters in a small voice, looking anywhere but at Mr. Stark. “No need to apologize. I– I totally deserved it, Mr. Stark. It’s fine, really. I’m– I’m sorry I tried to stop you. Please, don’t be mad, sir. Please…”

“Wh– what?” Tony asks, astonished. “What did you just say?”

This is a  _ disaster _ . He has just assaulted a  _ child _ . And not just verbally, with his smug and sarcastic attitude, but  _ physically _ . He’s actually laid hands on him! And even worse – for a brief second there it felt  _ good: _ holding him down like that, helpless and pliant, completely at his mercy. That scares Tony even more than child abuse. More than anything has scared him  _ ever. _

It’s making him  _ sick _ .

And just when he thinks that he has already hit rock bottom, the kid says he  _ deserved _ it. He  _ actually _ says that, the usual look of excitement on his face. As if Tony didn’t cause him pain just a few moments ago. As if he didn’t mind being manhandled at all. As if he  _ liked _ that…

Well, Tony is aware that Peter has issues. All teenagers do. It is okay. But this – _this_ is _not_ _okay_. It is _unacceptable_ that Peter Parker, that precious thing, thinks he deserves any of Tony Stark’s anger issues.

Tony pushes the wave of panic back, puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders and shakes him a little to make him look up. And Peter does – he looks at Tony  _ expectantly _ , his impossibly dark eyes full of rapt attention. Tony feels sick again.

“You listen to me, kid. Don’t you  _ ever _ say that again. Don’t even think it. If you’re abused, it’s not your fault and you do not deserve it, okay?”

He looks at Peter intently to make sure he understands.

“What I just did was  _ disgusting _ . You just–” Tony has to take a deep breath to stop his voice from breaking. “You triggered my combat reflexes when you tried to grab my hand, but it is  _ no excuse, _ and I’m taking full responsibility, okay?”

But Peter is shaking his head and won’t look at him.

“No, sir. I had it coming. I– I haven’t been good, Mr. Stark. I disobeyed you.”

Tony sucks in the air when tears start running down Peter’s flushed cheeks.

“I provoked you, even though I knew you had been angry and frustrated all day,” the boy hastily explains in a pleading tone. “I could feel you across the  _ whole city! _ ”

“What? How?” Tony is so amazed he forgets their main problem for a moment.

“I– I’m not... I think– I guess, it might have been my Spider-sense, sir,” Peter answers, as if unsure of his own sudden realization.

“Well, that’s new,” Tony says thoughtfully, looking at the kid with thinly veiled curiosity.

But then he remembers their previous topic and lets go of Peter’s shoulders, taking a step back.

“You see? Even your Spider-sense knows I’m a danger to you. I’m really sorry, Peter,” Tony tries his best to keep his voice steady, but it is difficult, given the fact that his insides are trying to jump out through his throat at the very thought – the very thought, the sickening realization that, despite what he has done, he isn’t sorry. He just  _ isn’t. _

The only thing he regrets is letting Peter go. And for that he is ready to apologize again and again.

“Trust me, kid, I never meant to be rough with you.”

_ But I liked it. _

The thought is terrible,  _ terrible, _ but it has already stuck in Tony’s head, playing in a loop, over and over again.

And just as Tony can’t take Peter’s forgiveness, the boy doesn’t seem to know what Tony’s crime even is.

“No, I–” Peter stammers, leaving  _ “wanted you to” _ unsaid. “It’s not your fault. I deserved it for being rude with Miss Potts yesterday.”

He hurries to elaborate when he sees Mr. Stark’s perplexed expression, “It’s about that, isn’t it? You being angry today?”

When Mr. Stark doesn’t answer, evidently too busy trying to process what the hell is going on, Peter keeps rambling, “I spoke to her, and she didn’t like me. And then – she must have told you something... What did she say, Mr. Stark? Did she say I wasn’t good enough? Smart enough? Talented enough?”

“Wha–” Mr. Stark begins, his expression utterly confused, but Peter doesn’t let him say what he fears to hear. Instead, he begs, “Please, Mr. Stark, give me another chance! I’ll do better, I promise. Just– Just don’t kick me out! Please, sir…”

“I don’t know what this is, but–” Tony begins again, but the kid isn’t listening. He keeps saying  _ please _ and wringing his hands in distress, so Tony has to catch his wrists to stop him and get his attention.

“Peter, listen.  _ Listen! _ ”

When Peter stills just a few inches away from him and looks up, his eyes wet and his hot breathing uneven, Tony feels something dark and hungry crawling inside his soul, just like moments before, when he was pressing Peter into the desk. He doesn’t want to look at it too closely. He knows he will  _ not _ like what he might see. So instead, he says, his voice as calming as he can manage, “I’m not gonna kick you out, okay? The thought has never even crossed my mind.”

The kid shakes his head.

“I don’t believe you,” his voice hitches. “You are upset. With me. I can literally  _ feel _ it!”

Tony growls impatiently, throwing his head back, and has to practically force himself to release Peter’s wrists.

“I  _ am _ upset, but it’s not about  _ that, _ ” he finally confesses, making a real effort to keep his voice calm. “It’s that Pepper found out about you being Spider-Man.”

Peter takes a step back, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“You told her?!”

“No!” Tony exclaims, a bit offended. “Jeez, how low do you think of me?”

“But–” Now Peter looks guilty and confused.

“I didn’t tell her – she figured it out on her own. She had known about Spider-Man and this internship before, but yesterday she put two and two together and confronted me after she ran into you.”

Peter blushes.

“I was rude to her.”

Tony raises an eyebrow and chuckles, trying to relieve the tension just a bit. “Do you even know what  _ ‘rude’ _ means, kid?”

Peter blushes even more.

“But Mr. Stark, I don’t understand–”

“I should probably put that on the front of your suit, right under the Spider logo.” Tony grins.

“Mr. Stark,  _ please _ –” Peter smiles despite his effort to stay serious.

“And that – on the back of your suit.” Tony winks smugly, trying to look unfazed, but his imagination has already wandered off to where Peter is saying it again –  _ Mr. Stark, please! _ – his voice breathless and needy, when he drops to his knees before Tony, so pretty and obedient for him.

Thankfully, Peter’s laugh crashes Tony’s train of thought.

“Seriously, though,” the boy says, calming down. “She knows, so what? Why are you so upset?”

Tony looks down and is silent for a moment, battling his sudden arousal, before he replies, “I just didn’t know how to tell you. I thought  _ you  _ would be upset. Since you are all about keeping your identity a secret.”

And it is the truth. Half of it, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is not beta'd, so please let me know if you have spotted any mistakes or typos.  
> [BETA WANTED!]  
> If you like this work, please consider leaving a comment or come talk to me on my tumblr:
> 
> <https://the-civilized-jedi.tumblr.com>


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